In war, they've done the horrific. They've looted food from enemy homes – maybe even killing the women and children. They've employed suicide bombings. They've launched toxic attacks. They've even engaged in cannibalism.
Ants, that is.
Ant colonies bear similarities to human communities: That's been fleshed out and personified before, from sharply delineated social order to death rituals to strict punishment for illicit behavior and treachery.
They've got complex societies with a rigid division of labor and ingrained conventions that let them eat, reproduce and wage war as a single unit. Given their massive populations and, as the famed entomologist E.O. Wilson writes, their "unity of purpose [and] social machinery," it's no surprise that ants are also bonafide masters of war.
"When it comes to war-fighting, ant species are more similar to humans than most other animals, even primates," ecologist and photojournalist Mark Moffett tells Danger Room. "Societies with population explosions, that extend into the millions, are prone to large-scale, intense, tactical warfare. It's a nature of battle only possible among communities with plenty of excess labor force."
Moffett's been tracking, photographing and analyzing ant behavior for years, following colonies everywhere from California to Nigeria. The treks informed a book, Adventures Among Ants, where Moffett lays out – using some incredible, up-close photography – some of the war-fighting similarities between ants and humans.
At first, some of the critter's combat strategies seem barbaric or downright bizarre. Until you realize that humans have a long history of employing many of the same tactics.
Above:
Roamin' Ants, Roman Legions
For example, take the army ant, of which around 130 species have been identified in the Americas alone. The ants operate much like Roman armies. Moving as a massive, united front, they depend entirely on the element of surprise.
But unlike human armies, "these ants don't have spies or scouts," Moffett says. Instead, they accumulate as many troops as possible, and coordinate a quick offensive surge meant to overwhelm the enemy. Why? Usually, to lay claim to new territory that's got ample food – once they've eaten it up, the ant army moves onto the next target.
Tactical Deception:
Like humans, ants can try to outwit foes with cheats and lies. Here, two ants face off in an effort to prove their superiority – which, in this ant species, is designated by physical height. But the wily ant on the right is standing on a pebble to gain a solid inch over his nemesis.
Before this discovery, tactical deception was thought to be restricted to “big-brained” animals like apes and humans. "It's unclear whether the ants learned this tactic, or are born with it," Moffett says. "But that shorter ant will hustle away."
Lanchester's Law, Part I:
Much like the war-fighting formula laid out by Frederick Lanchester during World War I, army ants engage in combat by emphasizing the size of the army and strategic placement, rather than troop caliber. Which means "cheap labor" is assigned to the front lines.
"These aren't the muscular 'Mel Gibson in Braveheart' soldiers, roaring toward the enemy," Moffett says. "Mostly, the “bravest” individuals — the ones that first put themselves in harm’s way — are the smallest, weakest ants, as well as the older ants and the cripples, the throwaways."
In some ant armies, there can be millions of expendable troops sweeping forward in a dense swarm that's up to 100 feet wide. In the photo above, showing the marauder ant in Malaysia, several of the weak ants are being sliced in half by a larger enemy termite with black, scissor-like jaws.
Lanchester's Law, Part II:
The mega-sized army ant forces are strategically coordinated so that the few Braveheart-caliber killers can sweep in and destroy, but only after expendable workers have rendered the enemy helpless.
In a move that's also known as "the death blow," a soldier ant – whose huge head is packed with muscles for gut-crushing obliteration – eventually advances from behind the front lines and takes out the termite adversary. How does she do it? "By chomping down," Moffett says.
The Gathering Storm
According to Moffett, we might actually learn a thing or two from how ants wage war. For one, ant armies operate with precise organization despite a lack of central command."We're accustomed to being told what to do," Moffett says. "I think there's something to be said for fewer layers of control and oversight."
Which, according to Moffett, is what can make human cyberwar and terrorist cells so effective. Battles waged on the web are often "downright ant-like," with massive, networked groups engaging in strategic teamwork to rise up with little hierarchy. "Such 'weak ties' – wide-ranging connections that take us beyond the tight-knit groups we interact with regularly – are likely of special importance in organizing both ants and people," Moffett notes in his book.
Ants are also ultimately loyal, fighting as a "superorganism" rather than individuals. Even the most patriotic humans can't compare: "It'd be like having an American flag tattooed to you at birth," he says. "They are permanently indentured to their society." And while ants will readily die for their community, they're also remarkably pragmatic – a characteristic humans rarely emulate.
"An ant would never go out of its way to save another ant," Moffett says. "They go in to get the job done, not take care of one another."
So with all the strategy, ruthlessness and brute force, which ant species reigns supreme? We might soon find out, thanks to a looming "mega-battle" Moffett's anticipating in California. There, two species of ants – Argentine and fire – are preparing to duke it out for the state's 164,000 square miles.
"In their native habitat, Argentine ants are forced into trees whenever the tide rises," Moffett says. "They had to reset their battle lines each time, so over time, they became programmed to forget how not to fight."
Fire ants, already widespread in the southeastern United States, adapted in much the same way. And while Argentine ants are well entrenched in California, with supercolonies of millions displacing lesser species, fire ants are trickling in "every time grandma from Louisiana brings her grandson in L.A. a potted plant."
Which army will win out? Even Moffett's not sure. "There's no way to tell," he warns. "The two invaders appear to be equally matched."
Photos: Wikipedia; Mark Moffett
